


Strut

by allflavoursofkink (Iolre)



Series: Mystrade Flavours [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bondage, Dirty Talk, Dom!Mycroft, High Heels, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot, Smut, corsets, face fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-02
Updated: 2013-11-02
Packaged: 2017-12-31 07:22:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolre/pseuds/allflavoursofkink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft Holmes was the one person Greg had felt he could be himself with. Which was how he ended up in his current situation, ankles bound to thighs, wrists to opposite elbows, soft rope tied in intricate knots decorating his skin in pretty diamond shapes. It was elaborate, and required quite a chunk of time, which was difficult when they only had a small amount of time together. But on the nights they could spare an entire night, they liked to play games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strut

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Song prompt, 'Strut' by Adam Lambert.

Mycroft Holmes was the one person Greg had felt he could be himself with. Which was how he ended up in his current situation, ankles bound to thighs, wrists to opposite elbows, soft rope tied in intricate knots decorating his skin in pretty diamond shapes. It was elaborate, and required quite a chunk of time, which was difficult when they only had a small amount of time together. But on the nights they could spare an entire night, they liked to play games.

The door to the spare bedroom opened, and Greg’s head dropped reflexively. He was bound, sitting in the middle on the floor, by himself. Once he had been tied up, Mycroft had wandered off to get prepared, to assume his role as the Dom. As he entered, the energy in the room changed, became more charged. Greg shifted slightly, barely moving, feeling the ropes scraping over his skin.

Greg heard the click of heels as he approached, and immediately pictured his lover in the high stilettos he favoured, a corset and lace underwear completing his occasional ensemble. It wasn’t often they played like that, but sometimes Mycroft liked it, and Greg wasn’t about to object. The silence heightened everything he felt, amplified the sound of the shoes on the floor.

He nearly jerked out of his skin when he felt Mycroft’s long fingers on his shoulder, sweeping down, across his shoulder blades, fingertips slipping occasionally under the ropes as if testing their patency. The touch felt electric, as if Mycroft was flipping all the right switches. The fingers trailed back up his shoulder, up to his chin, and Greg felt his head tipped up so that Mycroft could meet his eyes.

Greg had to bite back a moan. Mycroft’s pupils were fully blown, his eyes just a sliver of blue surrounding the wide expanse. A slight downward tug on Greg’s chin indicated what he was to do, and obligingly Greg opened his mouth. His eyes slid down Mycroft’s body until they reached the panties. Black lace, with the dark corset. Greg’s cock twitched in appreciation, and Mycroft smirked.

The downside to the high heels was that it put Mycroft’s hips out of reach of a kneeling, bound Greg. Carefully Mycroft took them off, leaving them tidily by the door (he did so hate messes), before walking forward and sliding a hand into Greg’s hair. The grip tightened and Greg was nudged forward, the tip of Mycroft’s cock sliding into his mouth. He waited, not doing anything. He had long ago learned what the consequences were for doing anything without Mycroft’s permission in situations like this.

“Suck, Gregory,” Mycroft told him, his voice flat. “Be quick about it.” The smirk on his face as he looked down at Greg sent shivers of arousal crashing through his body. Eagerly he started to suck, working his tongue against the length of Mycroft’s cock that he could reach. Being bound did have its disadvantages, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. His career required him to take control of situations, to interview witnesses, interrogate. It was nice to have that taken from him, sometimes, to lose control in a situation where he knew he would be taken care of.

Mycroft moaned softly and rocked his hips forward, pushing the length of his cock farther into Greg’s mouth. It wouldn’t be long before he would fuck Greg’s face, ramming his cock down Greg’s throat, using him like one would use a cheap whore. Greg wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, bound up as he was. Mycroft had all of the power. The pace of Mycroft’s thrusts increased, and Greg quickly hollowed his cheeks, sucking when he was able to and breathing through his nose. He relaxed his jaw as soon as Mycroft fucked deep, powerful thrusts that sent the tip of his cock into Greg’s throat.

He loved being used like that, like a receptacle for Mycroft’s cock, for his pleasure. Greg looked up at the man fucking his throat, at the elegant corset he wore, the unabashed lust on his face as he thrust his cock into Greg’s willing mouth. He slowed, pulled out until just the tip was resting on Greg’s bottom lip. “Stop,” Mycroft murmured softly, and Greg did, curious. This could go one of several ways, and he was interested to see which direction his lover would take.

Mycroft pulled all the way out, ignoring Greg’s whimper. He walked behind him, out of his line of sight, his hand still in Greg’s hair. Mycroft shoved Greg’s head down to the floor, careful to not smack his head down too hard. “Stay.” The DI tried not to shiver in anticipation, especially not when he heard the click of the lube cap.

A slick finger circled his hole twice before pushing in, and Greg moaned softly. It felt incredible, the intrusion, pressure with a hint of pain that was eradicated the moment the long finger slid over his prostate. Greg hissed and jerked, his cock throbbing against his stomach. “Now, what shall I do to you, Gregory?” Mycroft’s voice was contemplative, oddly soft, and Greg tried to be good and not rock back against the finger.

Greg knew it was a hypothetical question, knew what would happen if he answered. Mycroft leaned forward, adding a second finger, starting to scissor. He was gentle, but firm, and Greg bit back a moan as he continued to graze over the most sensitive spot inside him. “I could fuck you until I came, would you like that? Then mouth at your pretty hole, full of my come, until you came like a little slut.” Three fingers now, sliding in and out, and Greg’s breath was coming faster, whimpers escaping him every time Mycroft did something particularly clever.

It felt wonderful, stuffed full of Mycroft’s elegant fingers. It was nearly as good as his cock, nearly as good as feeling Mycroft come undone against him. “How would your team like it, seeing you like this, bound up, wanting my cock? See you as my little toy?” Mycroft nipped at his shoulder, a teasing bite,and Greg shuddered, groaning as the ropes shifted on his skin. There would be faint marks in the morning, and he loved them all the more for it.

Abruptly the fingers vanished, and Greg felt the tip of Mycroft’s cock at his entrance. “You would like that, wouldn’t you, Gregory?” A quick thrust and Mycroft broached him. Greg moaned, struggling to tilt his hips while his ankles were still bound to his thighs. “Shoving you to the floor, taking off my trousers, pushing my cock into your willing mouth, while they all stared and watched, watched me fuck your face like the slut you are?”

Greg couldn’t deny that somehow, every curse word sounded hotter when Mycroft spoke it in his posh voice. Mycroft waited for a few moments, allowing Greg to adjust to him, to the feeling of being possessed, completely. Then he started to move. Slowly, at first, lazy thrusts, and Greg shivered. “You would get off on it,” Mycroft murmured, low and husky. “I could push you against a wall, push your trousers down, just enough, and fuck you, shove my cock in your hole, fast and rough. You would moan and rut against the wall, the dirty little boy you are, hmm?”

“God, yes,” Greg moaned, struggling against his bonds, the bite of the rope against his skin sending heat rushing to his groin.

“I could pull out, come all over your face, and you would have to give your report, order around your sergeant, with the evidence of our encounter on your face. You wouldn’t be able to hide it.” Mycroft’s voice was getting lower, the words more breathy as he thrust faster. “I could make you come in your trousers, and leave you like that, feeling debauched, knowing that you belong to me, every time you move.”

Greg’s head swam, dizzy with arousal and lust as Mycroft continued to slam into him, whimpering as his balls started to tighten, drawing closer to his body as tumbled over the edge into an orgasm. He felt Mycroft continue to push into him, erratically as he finally slammed in and his forehead touched Greg’s hands. Mycroft whimpered as he came, hips jerking against Greg’s body until he slowed to a stop.

They stayed like that for a few moments, recovering, before Mycroft pulled out and gently pulled Greg up. He pressed Greg’s torso against his, starting on the knots as he murmured praise into Greg’s ear. It wasn’t long before they were cleaned off and Mycroft led Greg to the bedroom, helping him under the duvet and pulling him close against him, feeling Greg’s body loosen. Mycroft had taken off the panties and the corset, leaving him naked against Greg’s warm skin.

“Thank you,” Greg murmured into his skin, nuzzling at the freckles that liberally coated Mycroft’s shoulders and torso.

Mycroft hummed appreciatively and stroked Greg’s hair until he fell asleep against him.


End file.
